


The Boy Who Played With Fire

by CalamityCain



Series: Bad Things Happen To Underage Loki [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Bondage, Cousin Incest, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gags, Gang Rape, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityCain/pseuds/CalamityCain
Summary: Loki flirts with danger in a bid for Thor's attentions and finds himself in the grip of inescapable violence. One secret leads to another, and to unspeakable hurt that changes the way he loves and lusts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> warning for bad writing and a refusal to tie up implausibilities because the author is a wanker

-

 

“Fourteen is a little too old for a babysitter.”

 

Nal ignored her son, who was in fact not fourteen until the end of May, despite the sudden growth spurt that had stretched him out. From the corner of her eye she saw him struggling valiantly not to sulk. Being an only child meant he had received more than his fair share of spoiling, and she often wondered if some of their decisions – the ‘babysitting’ thing had been Laufey’s idea, not hers – were belated attempts at damage control.

 

“If you can prove you’re a trustworthy adult, more so than you were the last time we left you alone for a _day and a half_ – ”

 

“I’m not a child. That doesn’t mean I’m an _adult._ It means I should be allowed to make certain decisions where my life is concerned, that’s all.”

 

She frowned, taken aback for a moment by his solid counter-argument. He had always been precocious; it gave her more reason to worry. Loki was not one to stay within his boundaries even when it was the easy thing to do. He was intelligent, sharp-tongued, and too pretty for his own good. A dangerous combination for someone whose default mode was “I do what I want unless explicitly told otherwise, and for reasons I can’t argue with.”

 

Thor would be good for him. Thor Odinson and his six feet of wholesome goodness was like the brother Loki should have had. They had been close cousins; as close as brothers could be, really. But the three states and three-day drives wedged firmly between them had split up what was once a near inseparable pair. Now the tall, smiling boy’s choice of college had brought him back to their territory. It felt like a homecoming.

 

Loki did not seem too pleased about it. He all but crossed his arms and pouted when Thor turned up at the doorstep and threw an arm around his mother.

 

“Your math tutor is here, Loki,” she called. For the sake of his pride, they had agreed not to use the ‘b’ word and instead act like Thor was just helping him catch up on schoolwork. Not like he needed the help (his only significant weakness being geography, which he insisted was useless anyway).

 

“Our conference is a day and a half, but we might be away for at least two…”  
  


“No worries, Auntie Nal. I’ll make sure Loki’s a good boy.” Somewhere from behind him came a sound of indignant scorn.

 

She lowered her voice. “If he’s a bit of a handful, I hope you’ll put up with him. I mean, you – we’ll compensate you, you know that – ”

 

“Please, Aunt Nal. You’ve treated me like a son; I’m just returning the favour.”

 

They exchanged a tight hug, then she was waving goodbye to the boys as she pulled her suitcase out to the car where her husband was waiting. When Thor turned around, his little cousin had disappeared.

 

“Loki?”

 

The spacious open plan revealed no trace of a slim dark-haired boy. He climbed the stairs, knocked on every door, already knowing which one Loki was behind.

 

“Go away. I’m masturbating.”

 

“Sure you are. Shouldn’t take more than a minute, right?” When his jibe was greeted with silence, he shrugged and retreated. “I’ll get dinner ready.”

 

Thor didn’t hear the practiced silence of a doorknob turning or the head peeking out to stare intently at his back as he returned downstairs. _God, but he’s gotten big,_ thought Loki. A hell of a body, and the face that went with it wasn’t half bad either.

 

Thor had always overshadowed him, literally, save for that one time Loki briefly outgrew him in height. He soon caught up and continued mock-wrestling his slighter cousin to the ground at their every meeting until he was thirteen and moved with his mom halfway across the country. Loki had remembered waving goodbye to a strong, broad-shouldered, slightly chubby kid. And now –

 

Now, if he had met him out on the street instead of in his own home, he would never have known this to be the same Thor. Everything from the spun-gold mane spilling past his shoulders, to the graceful largeness to that thrillingly  _deep_ voice echoing off the walls made his throat dry.

 

He couldn’t explain that dryness, or the racing heart that followed, pounding like caged hell hounds against his ribs. He didn’t want to.

 

During dinner, he kept his eyes fixed on his food or on his phone, gracing Thor with only the briefest glances as a courtesy to the stunted attempts at conversation. He had been hoping the tilt-a-whirl that his stomach had become was nothing but weird hormonal crap every teenager was forced to go through. But each time he met those bright blue eyes, he felt his whole world fall away until nothing was left but a sweet ache for something he refused to name.

 

“You must be hungry,” said Thor amusedly, noting how Loki spooned chunks of potato into his mouth without pause.

 

_You need to stop talking,_ thought Loki.

 

He cleaned his plate as best as he could while the back of his neck burned every time Thor addressed him. “I’ll wash up,” he offered, wanting only to chase Mr Muscles from the kitchen.

 

“It’s alright. We can wash up together.”

 

The burn on his neck spread rapidly to his face at the sudden image of Thor’s bare body covered in soap suds, pressing against him in the bath –

 

“You OK?” Thor reached out to touch his forehead. “You’re all flushed.”

 

“Go _away._ ” He batted off the hand that just barely brushed his cheek. Too late; Thor had gotten close enough that Loki could smell him. Oh, _gods._

His face and soft lips had remnants of boyishness still. But he smelt like a _man:_ of musk and sea salt and something crisp and lovely. Loki wanted nothing more than to bury his face in that scent. He dropped his eyes to a random spot on the floor. “You did the cooking. I’ll do the washing. It’s only fair.”

 

“If you insist.” Loki held his breath until Thor had passed safely from the kitchen area. Not that the musky ocean scent wasn’t already burned into his memory.

 

That night in bed, he tucked his hands resolutely under his pillow, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Willing his mind to empty itself. After half an hour he gave up. He stared up at the ceiling and heard Thor’s voice in his head, and almost against his will one hand freed itself to creep beneath the blanket, beneath the waistband of his shorts.

 

_“Look at me, baby.” Thor’s large hands were around his thighs, holding them apart, exposing him. Seconds later a thick finger was between his legs, rubbing and prodding, making him whimper. “Does that feel good?”_

_“Y-yes.”_

_The finger slipped into that tight hot place where he had touched himself only once, forcing a moan from his lips. He arched his hips hungrily only for Thor to clamp them in place. “You know you’re not supposed to want this.”_

_Shame stained his cheeks red. “I know.”_

_“Are you going to tell your folks?”_

_“N-no. I won’t tell anyone.”_

_“Good boy.” Another finger joined the first. “Open up for me, baby.”_

 

 

 

The smell of freshly-brewed beans greeted Loki as he came down some time after the last of the morning had slipped by. “Afternoon,” Thor said, looking like the barista of his dreams. The long blond hair was in a loose ponytail, tendrils framing his face invitingly as he poured steaming black liquid into a mug. “I brought my own beans, hope you don’t mind. D’you want some?”

 

“I…sure.” Loki liked his coffee full of cream and sugar, but some part of him wanted to impress the older boy, and so he sipped his share plain and tried not to wince at the bitterness.

 

“It’s a weekend, so unless you have schoolwork to finish, I thought we could visit that vintage arcade place.”

 

“The one recently restored by that hipster architect?”

 

“The very same.” Thor grinned. “I used to spend hours on _Streetfighter_ there. Think you were there with me once, but you might have been too young to remember.”

 

Loki tried to picture Thor as a plump, ruddy-faced kid pushing knobs and buttons on an arcade game. It would have been easy before; now, all he could see was what his own eyes drank in thirstily: tall, handsome, with well-muscled forearms and –

 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

 

“Hmm? What was it?”

 

“Coffee, spacehead. Do you want more?”

 

_He sat with thighs parted, straddling Thor’s lap and the hard curve of his sex pressing insistently against his own thin shorts. “Do you want more?” said the deep voice in his ear._

 

Loki swallowed quietly. “Yes, please.”

 

-


	2. Chapter 2

_

 

_Four months later_

 

Thor could never figure out his little cousin: how the boy had gone from the laughing mischievous imp of their childhood to the sometimes bratty, sometimes shy, hot-and-cold changeling he had hugged goodbye just months ago. It had not been much of a hug, either – the boy slipped away like a fish in water after barely a second of contact. Yet for most of the three-day ‘babysitting’ stint Loki had seemed eager to spend time in his company; when he wasn’t pushing him away, that is, or giving him frustratingly vague replies to perfectly reasonable questions.

 

And now here he was painting his nails a glossy black with a pout on his lips, responding to Thor’s tentative smile with indifference. A pretty, imperious girl with a sharp laugh was painting his nails. She looked insolently at Thor from beneath her dark bangs as she settled further into the lap of her boyfriend, who looked like a Robert Smith wannabe and had what looked like a nipple ring beneath his unreasonably tight sleeveless top. His longish hair tickled her neck as he sucked studiously on the curve of her shoulder.

 

Something about them beyond the brazen PDA made Thor uncomfortable. Perhaps it was their age. The couple looked about as old as him. On the other hand, he supposed he should be glad Loki was making friends. Friends he didn’t mind bringing home, signifying that he had nothing to hide and they weren’t sneaking off to shoot up or something.

 

“Another guy’ll be joining us later, if ya don’t mind,” ‘Robert’ – whose actual name was Corvus – said to Thor after he had freed his lips from the girl’s neck. “We’re just gonna take advantage of Loki’s PS4. Like good friends do.” His tone was respectful but his grin was like a jackal’s. As for Loki, he didn’t even bother looking in Thor’s direction. The boy was in one of his moods again.

 

Thor knew he couldn’t chase them out without courting disaster in the form of a Loki tantrum. And anyway, the place wasn’t really his. Laufey and Nal had entreated him to stay over the holidays instead of travelling back across the country, since Loki seemed to enjoy his company more than they had anticipated. “He needs an older sibling and a firm hand,” Uncle Laufey had said, out of his son’s earshot. “You seem to be a good influence.”

 

Naturally, whenever his folks weren’t around – which was often – Loki attempted to make full use of his cousin, getting him to do everything from laundry to grocery shopping even when all they needed was a loaf of bread and some eggs, and even though the store was a short bicycle ride down the street. Thor ended up using Loki’s shiny red bike more than its owner. He didn’t mind the exercise, or the flattering glances and coy hellos he got from the numerous female joggers when they came across him. He _shouldn’t_ have minded leaving Loki alone for an hour when their usual store was closed and he had to drive to town. But he did.

 

“He’s fourteen. He’s not a child,” he muttered as he backed down the driveway. So why did he feel like he was leaving his cousin with a pack of hungry wolves?

 

 

 

The uneasy roiling in his stomach didn’t improve when he came back to an empty living room. He had expected to be greeted with a bunch of teenagers abusing the PlayStation and stealing his beer. This was a lot more unsettling.

 

“Loki…?” he called. Once, twice. No answer.

 

He all but ran up the stairs, some irrational part of his brain screaming that his cousin brother had been kidnapped. It was how he nearly slammed face-first into the giant coming down them. A match for his own six-foot-two, with even wider shoulders and a broad face that would be handsome if it weren’t dripping menace. Even the small silver hoop in his brow seemed like a threat. When his lips split into a cocky smile, Thor suddenly wanted to punch him.

 

“Where’s Loki?” he asked the PDA couple who were sauntering down in the giant’s wake, both looking far too smug in what he considered  _his_ territory.

 

“He’s not feeling too well. But he’ll be better soon,” said the girl lightly. That was all he could get out of them as they walked assuredly past him. “See you around, Thor,” said the large guy just before those broad shoulders slipped out the door. Just his name on those lips made his skin crawl.

 

His nerves were strung tight as he knocked on Loki’s bedroom door. “Loki. I’m back. You OK in there?”

 

A pause, far too long. Then: “I’ll be fine. Might skip dinner though.”

 

He sounded a little off. Were those…tears in his voice, or just sleep? How could he have been napping when his friends were in there moments ago?

 

“Can I come in?”

 

“I _said_ I’m fine.” Loki’s voice was sharp now, if a little hoarse. Perhaps he had imagined the tears.

 

He certainly hoped so.

 

 

 

Thor did not promise to bring up any food, even though it had been on the tip of his tongue. To his small relief, the strategy worked: a young teenage boy’s hunger knows very few bounds. Loki slouched silently into the kitchen some time after dinner, clearly hoping his older cousin wouldn’t pay him any heed.

 

Thor gave him enough time to down a mouthful of his instant hot chocolate before asking “Feeling better now?”

 

The boy’s face was turned resolutely away. He favoured Thor with a short “yes.”

 

“Is that all you’re having? There’s a sandwich in the fridge.”

 

Silence.

 

“Loki.” Thor reached out to clasp his thin shoulder. “You can tell me if there’s something troubling you.” When he got nothing but silence, he added: “I promise, I won’t tell your folks. Even if it’s something…bad.”

 

Loki shrank away. “You wouldn’t – it’s hard to…” He sighed. “I don’t know where to begin.”

 

“You could tell me about your buddies. Are they from school?” Thor didn’t add that they looked closer to his own age.

 

“They’re friends of a friend.”

 

“Do you like them?”

 

“Would I bring them to the house and let them paint my nails if I didn’t?” Loki rose and was about to go back up when Thor’s hand shot out. He didn’t know why he did that, why his hand encircled Loki’s wrist (as he marvelled at how slender it was in his too-large fingers) when he had been doing so well in giving the kid space. Now he had ruined it, and Loki was going to push him away again, harder than ever.

 

Except he didn’t. As he slowly drew nearer, the boy stared up at him with those sharp green eyes that looked close to tears, lips slightly parted, looking intensely, achingly vulnerable. It was a thoughtless instinct that made Thor envelope him in a hug. After a moment, Loki hugged back and clung on like a vine. It was a nice feeling; no, better than nice. It felt _right._ Even when Loki’s fingers tightened around his shoulders and the parted lips spilled hot, urgent breaths on his chest, he didn’t feel like pulling away at all.

 

“I love you,” Loki whispered.

 

Simple, earnest words. Yet their whispered intimacy made them odd. Spilt into the curve of his collarbones like that, in a voice that was jagged with some sort of untold secret, both desperate and hesitant.

 

“Tell me what’s got you down, Loki-doki,” he murmured.

 

The fingers clamped fiercely on his shoulders – then suddenly let go. Loki pushed himself away from the embrace, his eyes determinedly averted, and clambered swiftly upstairs before Thor could stop him. A moment too late, Thor gave chase, only to be met with Loki’s door slamming shut in his face.

 

 

 

Loki stared at the ceiling, hands crawling down to his nether regions. He stroked himself steadily, willing himself to rise. After a few miserable seconds he gave up. His eyes filled with tears.

 

_Gone._ All ruined. His fantasies, like his pride and dignity, lay in shambles. When he tried to picture Thor touching him, parting his legs gently but firmly and giving him pleasure like no one could, the once-vivid scenes refused to materialise. The tears fell in rivulets down the sides of his face. He had no strength to sob. A terrible heaviness planted his bones to the bed like the memories that he feared would weigh him down forever.

 

He had been so close to breaking – to telling the truth (about everything, why he’d done what he did) when Thor had hugged him like that. He could have stayed locked in that beautiful large warmth forever. It was the silly childhood nickname that undid him. _Loki-doki._ The rush of tenderness to his chest had been too painful and he would have blurted out his unspoken need there and then.

 

He couldn’t know what the crossing of those taboo lines would do to their relationship. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to drive Thor away.

 

But the silence was testing and strangling their bond even now. The truth could not stay secret forever.

 

And now he had lost even his make-believe world. The world where Thor did everything he wanted him to do and more. Loki’s sex lay limp between his thighs, refusing to grant him relief or escape. It was a long time before sleep took him. He would find upon waking that he wanted nothing more than to sink back into it.

 

_


	3. Chapter 3

-

 

It had begun with Thanos.

 

More accurately, it had begun with his foolish burgeoning need to get Thor’s attention by dating the first hulking danger sign he came across.The brother of a classmate that Loki occasionally snuck a joint with, Thanos had taken a shine to him immediately, and against his better judgment he had ignored the predatory gleam in those eyes.

 

Besides, the guy was _experienced_. The way he teased Loki yet respected his opinions, the way he took his time kissing and petting in place of the urgent fumbling he had known, how he took Loki out on nice dates at places that weren’t fast food joints, all made him feel rather more sophisticated than his peers.

 

He enjoyed their charade when they were out in highly public places. To avoid dodgy stares at their age difference, they would pretend to be siblings, the tingle of every touch all the stronger for having to restrain it. But almost every time their lips met in private, Loki could not stop himself from imagining those lips on his were Thor’s.

 

Thanos believed in polyamory and ‘open relationships’; being stuck with one person forever, he said, was for the small-minded. “Real love is not possessive. That’s what most people don’t get.” And Loki had nodded as he sucked on the clove cigarette his boyfriend slipped between his lips. The circle he had been introduced to were as cool a crowd as he had ever imagined: enigmatic, charismatic personages right out of a Poppy Z Brite vampire novel. Out of these, Thanos’ closest friends were Corvus and Proxima, a lean dark-eyed couple who would greet him with playful kisses or a squeeze on the ass, who smelt perpetually of cloves and whisky and leather.

 

He felt like part of some exclusive club. He enjoyed their conversations – deep, meandering, intense – worlds away from anything he talked about with his school mates. He even liked the sort of music they were into: everything from Bauhaus to Bowie to experiments in trippy electronica, all made better by the top-notch grass Thanos dealt in.

 

It was all fun and games until he’d made the stupid decision to bring them home. And all because he’d wanted Thor to _see._ To snatch Loki bodily from his boyfriend’s arms in a declaration that Loki was under his protection and no one else’s. Hoping his cousin would come home to find Thanos’ tongue down his throat and large experienced hands all over his body. Wondering, with a thrill of dread in his stomach, what the consequences would be.

 

If only he had known he would get quite a bit more than a tongue in his throat. Or that the hands that had always stayed within the boundaries he had set would smash them down – in the safety of his own home, of all places.

 

When he had felt the red-hot pain of the arm being twisted behind his back, he knew he was in over his head. When Corvus’ fingers had found their way into his ass with far too little lube, he had cried out and begged them to stop, hating the pathetic broken little voice that surely was not his own. He tasted the salt of Thanos’ sex on the tip of his tongue. “This is what you wanted, baby. You don’t get to be a tease and then withhold the goods at the last minute.”

 

“This is  _not_ what I w – ”

 

Corvus’ cold hand clamped itself over his mouth and nose, cutting off his words and his air. The more he struggled, the sooner his head began to swim as red and purple stars filled his vision. Corvus released him just before he passed out. As he gasped helplessly, Proxima pried his mouth open, keeping it locked with her iron fingers. “Keep it wide open, babe,” she cooed. “This pretty mouth has gone to waste long enough.”

 

He wrenched away from her grip, but his struggle only resulted in another bout of suffocation as his arms were pinned to his sides and his mouth stuffed with his own underwear, Corvus’ hand once more cutting off his air. Through it all the couple laughed like hyenas while his boyfriend leered over the scene.

 

“Are we done being a rude little tease?” Thanos stroked his cheek. _“Well?”_ Restrained and gagged, he could only nod breathlessly, head lowered in submission.

 

“We’re going to have some fun, is all. Let’s not make this unnecessarily painful.” A light slap on his cheek. “Alright?”

 

Another nod, along with a muffled sob. “Good boy.” His mouth was freed. “On your knees.”

 

He would have gladly choked ten times over on Thanos’ length than have Corvus use him from the other end. Not that he had any say in the matter. The older boy did not so much penetrate as batter him, every little push hurting his hitherto unused hole. Proxima taunted and watched with relish and fingered herself to the rhythm of their assault as his tears flowed freely, his cries stifled by the cock slamming into his throat. It was futile – dangerous, even – to offer resistance, with Thanos’ fingers threatening to crush his neck and Corvus spilling oily, nasty threats into his ear with each painful thrust.

 

He did not remember fighting it, in the end. When Thanos lovingly called him a willing slut, he did not deny it.

 

They left him lying in a daze on his bedroom floor, their fluids drying on his face, his thighs, in long streaks up his belly. Thanos kissed him tenderly on his numb slack lips.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow after school,” he rumbled.

 

Loki knew it was not a request.

 

Time passed strangely as he lay unmoving with his cheek pressed to the hardwood from which he would later scrub assiduously the stains of his rape. He only vaguely remembered turning Thor away when he came knocking. Thor, the one ray of sunshine in his now tainted existence.

 

Eventually, he dragged himself into the shower to drown himself in hot water. Somehow he made it out again. He even had the presence of mind to blow-dry his hair. The mechanical roar of the dryer was comforting. Loki held the device to his head and thought of a loaded gun aimed at his temple, a bullet waiting at the end of the roar.

 

Regardless of what it had been subject to, his body insisted on being fed. At some point after nightfall he found himself able to make himself a hot milky beverage to soothe his growling belly.

 

Again, Thor had given him the chance to reach out. Again he had pushed it away. As though the horrid incident had locked itself away behind layers of walls, refusing to come out. Where would he begin – and how, when the mess he was in had grown from the aching need he could never speak of?

 

 

 

“Are you really going to stay in there forever?”

 

Thor could have sworn he spent more time talking to the door than to his cousin. This was not the pleasant term break he had envisioned. His plans for breezy drives to the diners and hangouts of their childhood, perhaps even a cheesy karaoke night out, was looking more naively idealistic with each day. The boy was as impenetrable to him as he was to his exasperated, worried parents. Not that Nal and Laufey were presently around to be worried; presumably Loki was putting on an all-is-good façade whenever they called.

 

Thor knew very well that all was not good. He just didn’t know _why._

 

Deciding he would rather be yelled at than suffer more silence, he turned the doorknob and let himself in. Loki was in a faded band t-shirt and dark blue briefs, lying in bed with earphones on. He started only a little when Thor squeezed his shoulder. The usually sharp eyes were oddly numb, and he offered no resistance when Thor removed his earbuds.

 

“You need to tell me what’s going on.”

 

Loki closed his eyes and turned his face away; gently, Thor held his chin and turned it back. “Hey. Don’t shut me out.”

 

To this Loki gave only silence. But Thor was not the type to surrender easily. “Even if you’re upset for no reason – or if it’s, you know, depression or something – you need to let me know.”

 

The air remained still between them, save for the faint buzz of music from Loki’s earphones. “If you won’t talk to me, there are – helplines, online communities – ”

 

Loki’s voice was raspy as if with disuse when he finally spoke. “I’m afraid.”

 

“Afraid of what?”

 

The glassy eyes squeezed shut. “He’s going to hurt me.”

 

Thor’s heart went cold even as his eyes travelled down to Loki’s thighs, where he could see the mottled purple of bruises against the pale flesh. “Tell me who gave you those,” he whispered.

 

Loki shook his head.

 

“ _Dammit,_ Loki, I need to know. Or he’s going to do much worse things to you than bruise you up.”

 

The kid’s face went positively white. Thin hard fingers clutched the fabric of his t-shirt, bunching it tightly, a desperate reach for closeness. Thor lowered himself onto Loki’s bed. It was a bit of a squeeze, but he managed. He pulled Loki close and could not help but relish the soft heat of the boy clinging tightly to him. Despite their difference in size, they fit together perfectly.

 

“I’ll drop you off at school tomorrow. Pick you up afterward.” He stroked Loki’s dark wavy hair. “You stay inside until I’m there. You’ll be safe, alright?”

 

What he didn’t add was _And then I’m going to hunt this guy down and kill him._

 

To his dismay, Loki started trembling as tears spilled down the pretty face. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

“I’ll be fine. I have to take care of y – ”

 

“I _started_ this!” Loki wailed. “I didn’t have to m-make eyes at him and s-seduce him the way I did, I was an idiot – ”

 

“ _No._ Goddamnit, Loki, he’s the one dishing out the abuse. And that’s all there is to it. You didn’t ask for this.”

 

“But I did. I _did._ I knew he was bad news.”

 

Instinctively, he slid his hand beneath Loki’s head to cup his neck. This seemed to soothe the boy. “Then why…?” he asked.

 

A sniffle. Loki did not have an answer. He only buried his face deeper in Thor’s chest and neck, snuggling like a child as his sobs faded. They lay like that for a long time, breaths rising and falling in tandem.

 

“Want to catch a movie?” Thor asked at last.

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

“Alright. We’ll go. But you have to promise me something.”

 

“What?”

 

“One: that you’ll stop seeing him. Two: you’ll call me if you’re in any danger.”

 

The faintest trace of a smile lit up the flushed face. “OK.”

 

_


	4. Chapter 4

_

 

He broke the first promise he made. He tried to keep the second.

 

It wasn’t easy to escape Thanos’ grasp. Not even with Thor’s constant presence. Much as his heart leapt a little at the sight of his big cousin brother, who waited faithfully outside the school gate each day as promised, he was perpetually haunted by the fear of Corvus, Proxima and the gang going after the one good thing in his life with their ruthless abandon. The little circle he had been so proud to be a part of had become a source of disillusionment. He saw their worldly, enigmatic ways for what they were: fronts for cold sadistic natures and a brutish disregard for others they deemed below them.

 

The first time he made a tentative attempt to end the relationship, he felt the large fingers curl around the back of his neck. A gesture of affection to the naked eye. Loki knew better. A gentle squeeze, as gentle as Thanos’ voice in his ear, grew slowly more insistent as Corvus lazily slid a hand beneath his t-shirt as if nothing was wrong.

 

The message did not take long to sink in. Nothing was wrong at all.

 

“We understand each other, don’t we babe?”

 

The fingers left just enough room for him to croak “Yeah.”

 

All the little moments that used to thrill him became borderline terrifying. His heart sped up (and not for the right reasons) when Thanos casually slung an arm around him, never knowing when it might turn into something more forceful. He began to associate the leather smell of his boyfriend’s car with a sensation of helplessness. They used to hit up clubs that Loki was too young for, and it used to make him feel reckless and cool. Now it was all he could do not to throw up from nerves.

 

On the last period of Friday, a fire broke out in the chem lab. One student among the crowd relishing their early liberation did not rejoice in this happy accident. For Loki, casting furtive glances left and right upon exiting school gates was becoming second nature. Even if he was only delaying the inevitable.

 

A cool, hard hand clamped down on his shoulder. He fixed his features into a neutral bored look before turning around.

 

“Gates are that way,” Corvus said, thin lips curved in a broad grin.

 

“Yeah. I know that, Corv, I’ve only been here eight years.”

 

“Course y’do. Anyway, come on. Big T brought the party packs as promise.” By that he meant exceptionally good grass at cut-rate prices. More for everyone. Loki couldn’t bring himself to muster his usual enthusiasm. It didn’t help that he thought ‘Big T’ was a completely obnoxious nickname only a sycophant like Corvus would use.

 

He could have run for it there and then. But unless he ran straight across the state border, he didn’t see how it would help his situation the next day, and the day after, and after that.

 

In that moment he wanted nothing more than to throw himself off a cliff.

 

The feeling did not improve when faced with his boyfriend’s broad, smirking countenance he couldn’t believe he had once found handsome. “Your cousin is late,” boomed Thanos.

 

Loki hoped his pasted-on smile hid the sensation of a blow to the gut. Thor had been picking him up for just under a week, but clearly the routine had not escaped Big T’s eye. What if he started tracking Thor down, predicting his movements, threatening him? _Hurting_ him?

 

“You wanna give him a call? Tell him you got plans?”

 

“Actually…he told me he couldn’t make it today.” Loki shrugged as his heart pounded away in the hope that the flimsy lie would keep his cousin safe a while longer.

 

“Good, good. He won’t get in the way of our fun, eh?” Thanos threw an affectionate arm around him. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to…delay him indefinitely.”

 

He chuckled, and Loki wondered if Thanos could feel his gut clenching in cold fear.

 

When Ebony Maw – a nasty, oily piece of work who turned up occasionally at their little get-togethers – requested a blow job in the passenger seat of Thanos’ car, Loki gave it numbly and mechanically. He would rather suck the guy’s cock than look at his face. Ebony had the kind of gaze that not only undressed you but flayed you alive. It was why he did not object when he was asked to pull down his jeans so Ebony could pinch his thighs and ass and leave a line of small bruises the way he always did with his playmates. If you were lucky, he left no more than that.

 

As he swallowed a mouthful of bitter spend, he felt two lubed fingers push their way inside his opening. Proxima; he could smell her perfume as she bent over him.

 

“Your daddy told me to pass you a present,” she cooed. Then a cool hard nub pushed its way into his hole. Loki gasped around Ebony’s cock as she pushed it relentlessly in. Tears suddenly sprang to his eyes as he was reminded of his painful rape. _Stop,_ he wanted to say. He knew better than to think it would make a difference.

 

He tried to rise, to shift enough so that he wouldn’t feel so tight around the plug. Just then his phone rang. Before he could dig it out of his pocket, Ebony had it in his smarmy hands. Loki whimpered as he answered the call.

 

“Mr Odinson. I hope you’re having a good day.” Ebony’s voice was as polished as always: British private school, unctuous, utterly despicable. Loki scrambled to grab his phone as it was held coolly out of reach.

 

“Oh, were you? I’m sorry if we’re making him a little late. Time flies when we’re having fun – you know how it is. But we’ll have him home safely…soon enough.”

 

“Thor – !” Loki was cut off by the girl’s fingers wresting control of his jaw, then by her panties being shoved into his mouth. He heard the ripping sound of duct tape just as Thanos got into the car and locked the doors. He kicked out and managed to hit Proxima in the belly, earning an outraged shriek and a hard slap on the face. Then Ebony was pinning his wrists behind his back, securing them with the tape. He spat out the panties and yelled _“I’m in the school parking lot! In his car!”_ hoping Thor was still on the other end.

 

A series of dizzying backhand blows made him see stars. In the seconds he struggled to regain his senses, his wrists and ankles were bound and the panties shoved back in, secured with a strip of tape. With a sinking feeling, he realised they had planned this. Or rather, _Thanos_ had planned this. Which meant that worse things lay in store for him.

 

He heard the thunk of a car door closing. His boyfriend turned around to look at him, and the dark eyes were utterly without mercy.

 

 

 

Thor had never properly cried– not since his childhood days. He had shed involuntary tears of pain during a sports mishap; had gotten misty-eyed over his first real breakup; but now, he found himself bent over in a panic and hearing strange sobbing sounds from a throat that surely couldn’t be his.

 

He clung to the steering wheel, paralyzed, feeling like a completely useless idiot. He had betrayed Loki. His cousin – his little brother in everything but name – had been _counting_ on him to come to the rescue. And he had failed. The school was only a few minutes from the house (if one severely violated the speed limit) but of course it was already too late. The empty parking lot mocked him cruelly, like the nameless, faceless thug who had probably kidnapped Loki as revenge for trying to break up with him.

 

Except he wasn’t faceless; not really. Thor suspected he knew very well who this mystery boyfriend was. Six-foot-two, massive shoulders, pierced eyebrow. A smile that oozed menace. If only it came with a name. He had none; not even that of his loathsome lackeys. He cursed Loki for being so goddamned secretive. How was he to make any kind of report without sounding ridiculous?

 

_We’ll have him home safely…soon enough._ He doubted anyone with a voice that reeked such slime could be trusted. But he had little choice. Thor stared down at his phone screen, his trembling finger hovering over Laufey’s number. He didn’t trust himself to call his uncle and aunt without dissolving into a wreck. He had never felt so weak.

 

What were they doing to Loki right now? His mind was a blank even as his stomach coiled like a pit of snakes, and so without even realising, he hit Loki’s number again.

 

He just needed to hear something. Anything. _Just please bring him back to me._

 

_Please don’t hurt him._

 

 

 

The plug was terribly uncomfortable; he had hoped it would at least stimulate him, arouse him, anything to distract from the unwelcome sensation that kept triggering memories of being gang-banged in the sanctity his own bedroom. He tried to deaden his mind so that he wouldn’t encourage Ebony and Proxima with stifled mewls each time they pinched his nipple or jabbed a lit cigarette into the inside of his thigh. Proxima had already made a pattern of sear-marks in the shape of her initials while blowing smoke in his face. He would hate the smell of mint-infused clove forever.

 

They had driven to the spot where Loki knew Thor had both made out and broken up with Jane. It was most serious relationship he’d ever been in. On the day of the split, Loki’s social media feed had seen a string of melancholy tweets accompanied by pictures of this idyllic park. Casuarina trees ringing the lake swayed softly in the slight breeze. And he was now, sitting with Thanos on a park bench, like an ordinary couple on an ordinary date.

 

Proxima, Corvus and Ebony wandered off – perhaps to find some other kid to torment – leaving them all alone. “We haven’t been on a proper date in a while, babe,” he crooned with one hand tenderly squeezing Loki’s thigh. His jeans had been pulled down his hips, his t-shirt pushed up to expose his nipples. “Shh, it’s quiet here now, no one will see us,” came the assurance when he protested with muffled whimpers. Thanos kissed him through the tape gag as hot tears stung his eyelids.

 

“I know what you’re thinking. You’ve been wanting to get away from me.” He was stroking Loki’s hair now, his cheek, butterfly-light touches. “It’s why you’ve been avoiding me. Why you’ve been making stupid excuses to not spend time with your good friends. The ones who took you in when no high school clique would.” The hand slid down to his back, to give his ass a good squeeze.

 

Loki moaned as the plug jabbed him at a new angle. Thanos chuckled in response and removed the infernal device, making him sag in relief.

 

“You don’t want me to fuck you.” He leaned in so his breath was hot on Loki’s ear. “You want your big cousin _brother_ to fuck you.”

 

The sharp intake of breath betrayed him. Thanos’ low laugh was cruel. “You think I didn’t suspect it? Bet you thought of his big cock stuffing you instead of this.” The butt plug was waved in his face. “Oh, he’s a looker, alright. Corvus wanted a piece of him from the moment they met. He might get his wish just yet. Carve him up a piece at a time.” A nasty chuckle. “I know you want that hunk all to yourself, but you’ll just have to share.”

 

As he grew cold with despair, a sudden vibration in his jeans pocket filled him with a small jolt of hope. Thor was calling.

 

He had to find a way to answer it, somehow. Bound and gagged and in the grasp of a potential murderer, he had to do the impossible.

 

He did the first thing that came to mind: feign weakness. It wasn’t such a hard act, after all, to break into sobs and drop his head onto Thanos’ chest as if pleading for mercy.

 

“Ahh, don’t cry, pretty babe. We won’t hurt your precious Thor. Not as long as you’re  _reasonable._ It’s all I ever ask for, isn’t that right?” A kiss on his cheek. “No dumb excuses. No avoiding me with vague answers and leaving me cold. Not when we can work things out.”

 

Loki nodded frantically, allowing small, pathetic whimpers to escape him. He knew the man loved him best like this: desperate and submissive. With a subtle twist of his shoulders, he had managed to get his hands to where his phone jutted out. He needed only to take a picture of the park; a bad, blurry picture. He snapped the first shot he could get once the camera lens was clear of his pants pocket, and sent it.

 

He hoped to all the gods that the photo had gotten through. The phone slipped out of his hands and thudded onto the grass. No second chances.

 

“Think I’ll keep that safe for you,” Thanos said with a benign smile as he tucked the slim device into his own pocket. “Now. Let’s get you comfortable, shall we?” From his other pocket he unfolded a gleaming knife.

 

This time Loki whimpered for real.

 

 

 

Thor recognized the casuarina trees immediately, even in the blur of the hastily sent photo. It sickened him that the place had to be tainted with something like this. But though his heart was pounding, his head was suddenly clear.

 

There was no going to the authorities; no summoning his aunt and uncle from another state. No luxury of doing the proper thing and waiting. He would make sure Loki was safe if it was the last thing he did. But he couldn’t do it alone. And there was only one person he knew who was both close enough – geographically, at least – and could be trusted to wield the kind of force he needed on his side. The ruthless kind.

 

This was not someone he would have called on of his own free will; in a less urgent situation, he would rather have swallowed lye. Her very existence reminded him of the infidelity that had split the family and caused his mother and him to move across the country. He still stalked her occasionally on Instagram. And he knew she was in town.

 

He was nearly halfway there when she finally picked up on the third phone call.

 

“Did somebody die?” came the cold drawl.

 

“Somebody might if we don’t do something.”

 

“What is this about? And who said anything about ‘we’?”

 

“He’s like my baby brother, Hela.”

 

“Yes. _Your_ brother.”

 

“He’s in danger – he’s been taken, kidnapped, and possibly…” Thor couldn’t bring himself to name other possibilities.

 

“I don’t suppose we’re going to call the cops like normal people.”

 

“Normal is not what I need." Thor gritted his teeth. “What I need is someone who got expelled from school for being a murderous psychopath.”

 

Her laugh was knife-sharp. “Where is this big showdown of yours?”

 

He told her the location.

 

“How delightful. I live just five minutes from there.”

 

“Good. Come armed.”

 

_


	5. Chapter 5

_

 

“I’m going to fuck you now, nice and slow.” A large hand gave his ass a squeeze. “You can pretend it’s Thor stretching you out with his thick cock if you want to. I won’t hold it against you, babe.”

 

Loki’s mouth had been freed from the gag, but Thanos’ words left him speechless. He pressed his face into the prickly grass and tried to hold back tears. He felt stained by his incestuous longing the way he never had before, its burn like a cattle brand pressed deep into his skin.

 

That was Thanos for you. The man always knew where to hit, where it hurt most.

 

The knife blade that had cut the tape from his ankles – his wrists were still bound – was cold against his neck. No warning was necessary. He would be quiet and take what he was given, or he would be hurt. Badly.

 

Neither the plug, nor being loosened by two, then three fingers, quite prepared him for Thanos’ cock. It had felt suffocating in his mouth; it was even larger in his other opening. He let slip an involuntary cry, which earned him a nick on the cheek.

 

“Now, now. Don’t make me ruin your pretty face. I’m barely in an inch, little one.”

 

“Let me suck you off,” Loki pleaded. “I’ll be so much better than the first time. I swear – ”

 

Thanos clamped a hand over his mouth. “I’ll make good use of that tongue, you can be sure of it. But not right now. Sshhh.”

 

The large cock pushed in another inch, and Loki instinctively writhed away, knowing he could never escape. Another two inches. He wailed into Thanos’ hand. It was going to tear him apart, he couldn’t take any more –

 

Thanos gave a loud cry. Loki felt the weight lift off him suddenly, and he looked up to see a knife in Thanos’ eyeball. He wasn’t sure who between them was more bewildered. Thanos appeared to be frozen in shock, which was something he’d never seen before.

 

He looked up at his rescuer. Her dark gleaming eyes drank him in from top to toe. “Well, aren’t you pretty. Not a _total_ waste of my time.” Then she produced a second knife and stuck that in Thanos’ belly.

 

“Hela!” came a shout. Loki felt his insides go weak at the voice. _Thor._

 

“We weren’t supposed to _actually_ kill him!” Thor looked in dismay at Thanos’ groaning, bleeding figure.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic. I didn’t go for anything vital.”

 

“Do you  _want_ police crawling up our asses?” Thor continued. Then his eyes fell to Loki, naked from the waist down and face streaked with tears, and a low growl bubbled up from deep inside him. It turned into a roar as he pounded that loathsome face repeatedly, bellowing senseless guttural curses, before Hela ended it by kicking Thanos in the head hard enough to give him a concussion.

 

“My phone,” Loki stammered as Hela’s knife cut through the tape binding his wrists. He managed to retrieve it from Thanos’ pocket before his limbs turned to water and he collapsed back on the ground.

 

“Hey, what’s up? We heard you shouting – ” The words died on Corvus’ lips as he, Proxima and Ebony gaped as one at their defeated ringleader. Thor rose to his feet, still seeing red, gripping the car jack rod he had brought along as a makeshift weapon. Hela produced a steel baseball bat and smiled at Thanos’ minions.

 

“Who’s next?” she asked.

 

Ebony, the smarter of the three, fled immediately. Thor and Hela made short work of the other two, leaving them sprawled in the grass, badly but not fatally battered.

 

“They’ll never be as pretty as they were before,” Hela remarked. “Good looks are wasted on idiots, anyway.” She licked the blood off the side of her bat.

 

“You really are batshit crazy,” Thor said as the rage slowly drained from his blood.

 

“Is that your idea of a thank-you?”

 

He moved in, slowly, to give her an awkward hug. “It is.”

 

 

 

It was the most surreal car ride Loki had ever been in. After being subject to fear, humiliation, violation, and being narrowly rescued by the striking young woman who was introduced as his estranged cousin sister, he felt overcome by a wave of numbness. He vaguely recalled Thor picking him up and carrying him to safety. Kissing his forehead, murmuring soothing words he wished he could remember. Everything was either dulled or sharpened so that his senses picked out random minute details: the cymbals in the song on the radio, the shape of the clouds rushing by, the tailored details of Hela’s leather jacket.

 

For some reason he must have missed, she had decided to come along. Her gaze fell on him now and then, inscrutable and intense. He was too dazed to feel much discomfort from it.

 

When the car stopped and he tried to get out, his knees gave way and he narrowly avoided being brained by the cement paving as Thor caught him. A sudden realisation washed over him: he was safe now. At least for the time being. The world began to spin harder. His stomach and head felt full of air and nothing else. He felt his feet leave the ground as he passed out cold in Thor’s arms.

 

He came to in his bed with cool fingers in his hair, a cool hand on his forehead. A pale dark-haired visage hovered over him.

 

“I’ve seen pictures of you,” she said. “But you look much more precious in person.” Hela held his chin, bent down and kissed him firmly on the lips. “I’m glad Thor interrupted my plans, after all. Now we can get to know each other better.”

 

She left him lying there, taken aback by the kiss, and thoroughly uncertain how to feel about it. As she smiled at him almost tenderly and closed the door, he was stricken by a vivid, unbidden mental image of himself naked and sandwiched between her and Thor, with their hands all over him.

 

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that either.

 

Perhaps he had simply been corrupted to the point that such thoughts had become second nature. He shivered, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. The violent image of Proxima and Corvus sprawled as if dead on the ground, mere feet away from Thanos – who had been lying in a pool of blood when Loki last saw him – made him sick and cold and vindicated at the same time.

 

It was hard to reconcile his cousin brother with the battered faces that flared bright in his mind’s eye. He had never known Thor to be capable of such ruthlessness. It almost thrilled him. He stared at the ceiling as he replayed the scene in his head: Thor, full of rage and magnificence, steel in his hand and murder in his eyes.

 

After a while, he realised he was warm with arousal. He had not been aroused in a long time.

 

There was a soft knock on the door. “Loki?”

 

“Come in.” At the sight of his golden-haired cousin, Loki’s belly did an odd flip. All he wanted was to crawl into those large arms and let Thor cradle him like a baby as he breathed in that glorious scent. And Thor seemed happy to oblige.

 

Surely his cousin must have held him like this before. It felt familiar somehow, and right. A heavy, pleasant feeling crept through his limbs, made his eyelids heavy. His head rested on the curve of Thor’s lap. One hand cradled the back of his neck. He was safe, and warm, and loved.

 

Not quite the kind of love he craved. But he would lap it up all the same.

 

 

 

Thor looked down upon the boy he still thought of as his baby brother with a love so strong it ached. He had never felt more protective of anyone in his life. He stroked the dark wavy mop, the soft cheeks that had never looked so kissable, gazing into those brilliant green eyes framed by dark lashes. He wished they could stay this way forever, and he could spend the rest of his life making sure nothing bad ever happened to Loki again.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Loki blinked up at him and his heart stopped. Had he really said that out loud? And how must it sound, coming from him?

 

“Do you really think so?” Loki said softly.

 

He smiled back. “Don’t go breaking any hearts now.”

 

The boy shuddered and curled tighter into his lap. “I don’t want to be with anyone again. Except you.”

 

“Don’t say that, Loki. You had a…a traumatic experience. With time you’ll be able to leave it behind.”

 

A small sniffle. “Will you hold me?”

 

“I’m already holding you.”

 

“No. Closer.”

 

He hesitated, but Loki’s eyes were so raw and pleading he couldn’t find it in his heart to refuse. “Alright. Here.” He lay down on the pillow and held his arms open. Loki slid into them, face nuzzling into his chest. “Do you love me?”

 

“Do you need to ask?”

 

Loki tilted his face up. “Can you…” He swallowed.

 

“Can I what, Loki-doki?”

 

“Kiss me.”

 

“I…I’m not sure it would be appropriate – ”

 

“Why not?”

 

“You know why not.” Thor began to push him away, but stopped when Loki bit his lip in disappointment and looked like he was on the verge of tears. The kid had been through so much in a short time, and Thor ached with a boundless need to make him feel better. And he did want to hold him, and kiss him and touch him. It felt good and right and he did not know how much longer he could deny himself.

 

Before he knew it, he was dropping kisses on Loki’s forehead, on his flushed cheeks, his soft mouth. And then it was all mouth, all heated sighs and lips against parted lips. He ran his hands down the slender torso, marvelling at how he could near encircle it, loving how protective it made him feel. He wanted to claim him and keep him close like this for all time.

 

“Mine,” he murmured almost without realising. “My baby.”

 

Loki drew a sharp breath. “What did you call me?” he whispered.

 

Thor’s eyes widened. “I – I’m sorry…”

 

“Don’t be. Please. Call me that again.”

 

He held Loki’s face and let his fingers trace the pink inviting lips.

 

_“Baby.”_

 

___


	6. Chapter 6

_

 

Where Thor was caring and tender, his sister was reckless and commanding and just a little frightening. Loki found his heart speeding up at her very scent (sharp, musky, laced with amber and something dark and woodsy). Once she turned up to pick him from school with a big bag of candy and the smell of cigarettes clinging to her leather jacket. They took the scenic route home, speeding all the way and eating sinful amounts of sour strips. Another time she had a hip flask that she allowed him to drink liberally from. Despite restricting himself to tiny sips, he was quite tipsy by the time he stumbled into the living room.

 

Thor was out of the house most days now, working a programming job part-time to ease his college loan debt. Which meant that Hela had him to herself for a brief hour or so. She taught him things Thor would certainly have deemed him too young to learn. But Loki had learnt enough – too much, in fact – at the hands of his ex-boyfriend. He could not see himself returning to where he was before everything that had happened to him. Most of which he found himself withholding from Thor.

 

He found himself, instead, spilling his secrets to Hela after the fiery contents of her slim steel flask had loosened his tongue. He spilt them in hesitant words clumsily strung together and let the sobs flow as he buried his face between her breasts.

 

When it was over, he made her promise not to tell Thor.

 

“I know it’s not right, but…”

 

“Shush. I understand. You want to protect him; from knowing, from being horrified and unable to undo what’s been done to you.”

 

“I suppose. Yes.”

 

“You love him too much. More than me, at least.”

 

“No – I…”

 

She silenced him again, this time with a kiss. Her lips were harder and more insistent than Thor’s, enjoyable in a different way. “It’s fine. I like being trusted with your secrets. This is what brings people closer.” Her hands slipped beneath his t-shirt, gently stroking his nipples and making them hard.  “And I do enjoy being closer. Don’t you?”

 

He gasped when she took his hand and slipped it beneath her panties. They were black, made of lace and silk.

 

“Don’t you?” she whispered.

 

“Y-yes.”

 

She guided the movement of his fingers. “Have you properly pleasured a girl before?”

 

He thought of the laughably awkward groping he had once engaged in with a girl two years his senior behind the school gym. She had tolerated his inexpert touch because she genuinely liked him. They had hit it off as lab partners, then as casual off-and-on partners before parting ways. He had not been with her long enough to know what really made her tick. At least, not physically.

 

“I can see not.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.” His face warmed as he felt his fingers grow slick with her juices. They glistened in the afternoon light when she slid them back out. Her tongue lapped at the evidence of her own arousal before she made him do the same. At the taste of her, he grew hard.

 

“You bad boy,” she said with a velvety laugh. “You’ve ruined my underwear.”

 

Hela slid off her tight jeans, then the black silken panties. “Come here.” She beckoned with thighs spread so he could see the warm wet folds of her blossoming labia. He knew enough from the sort of media all curious teenagers consumed eventually to know what she wanted. Even if he had never actually done it.

 

His heart thudded and his breath quickened as lust mingled with fear and recollection – of being made to use his mouth against his will, Proxima’s panties gagging him, the smell of female sex on his tongue –

 

“Loki, darling. My baby brother. You know I’d never hurt you. Not the way _they_ have.” She stroked his hair, then firmly turned his flushed face to meet hers. “It’s time you were properly taught. By someone who won’t beat you up for failing. Alright?”

 

He nodded, hating the tears that so easily burned the corners of his eyes.

 

It was odd how much he longed to please her. How he longed to please both of them; his older siblings, the only ones he trusted to protect him, who – while they were around – would ensure no one touched him unless he wanted to be touched.

 

And he did not want anyone’s touch but theirs. Even if the world told him he was wrong.

 

When his tongue met her cunt and began pushing into her folds, he felt her fingers grip a handful of his hair – not tight enough to hurt, but enough to emphasize the promise she wished to exact from him.

 

“Don’t tell Thor.”

 

He lowered his eyes in compliance. If keeping secrets was what it took to keep them together, he would take theirs to the grave.

 

_


End file.
